


Angels Fall with Broken Wings

by OhWilloTheWisp



Series: Angels Fall [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean is a demon, He is not evil, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not a dark fic, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6973087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhWilloTheWisp/pseuds/OhWilloTheWisp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel descended into Hell it was with the sole purpose to resurrect the Righteous Man.  He was captured and subjected to the worst that Hell had to offer.  When the chance finally came to fulfill his mission he saw that he was too late: Dean's soul had been twisted into a demon.  He resurrected Dean anyway knowing the man, now demon, might be the only hope to stop the apocalypse.  Now both the demon and the now fallen angel must figure out what it means to be human, and what they mean to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Damnation

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time doing the asexual mini bang and I am so unbelievably glad I signed up! This was a great experience all around and kuwlshadow was a delight to work with. I could not be happier with the amazing art she made for me! I am unbelievably glad I found this site and I am already excited for next year!
> 
> The title comes from the song Angels Fall by Breaking Benjamin, one of my favorite songs and very fitting for this story.
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta thedropoutandthejunkie who was kind enough to look this over! Any remaining mistakes are my own. :)
> 
> Art can be found on LJ: http://kuwlshadow.livejournal.com/32013.html and Tumblr: http://kuwlshadow.tumblr.com/post/144905171708/title-angels-fall-with-broken-wings-author

“You should be honored,” Alistairs sick voice filled his head, felt like it was filling him, pulsing inside what was left of his body.  “You are going to get your wish, _angel.”_ He said the word like an insult.  Castiel had been on the rack for so long he was no longer sure if he was an angel.  Alistair had hacked away at him, piece by piece until there was nothing left.  He had descended into Hell with his brothers, absolute in his purpose, unwavering in his faith.  He had to save the Righteous Man, the fate of humanity depended upon it.  He didn’t respond to Alistair’s taunting, endless decades of torture had taught him better.  He would have submitted to an eternity of torture if he had only been able to fulfil his mission.  That was what the demons would never understand.  The only torture that truly cut him was knowing he had failed to save Dean Winchester.

The demon’s smile was sick and twisted as he brandished Castiel’s stolen sword.  “Today, you have the pleasure of meeting my apprentice.  It’s been a long time coming, but I believe he’s finally ready.”  He stepped to the side handing the Angel Blade to the demon that stepped forward.  A jolt like electricity ran through him as he saw the blackened soul that stood before him.   It was twisted almost beyond recognition, but Castiel still knew.  What was left of his tattered wings moved as shifted against the chains that held him while he look at the demon that had once been the Righteous Man.

Alistair put one hand out in a grand flourish, “Go ahead Dean.  Show me what you’ve learned.  This is what you’ve been waiting for.”  The twisted version of affection in the demon’s voice made Castiel sick, and if the expression of contempt was any indication, Dean felt the same.

“Yes,” Dean said, a mockery of a smile twisting his features, “I suppose it is.”  The angel blade in his hand moved with a flash and sank deep.  Alistair barely had time to react, his hand going to the blade now buried deep inside him as he crumbled away to ash.  Dean sneered at the pile of ash at his feet.  “All of these decades together and he never saw how much I despised him.”  He turned to the angel then, “Alistair has been telling me about you.”  He moved towards the angel and Castiel tensed, waiting for death.  Instead the demon unchained him, pulling away the restraints carefully not to cause any further damage.  He wondered if this was another game, give him a spark of hope, only to take it away again.  They wouldn’t be alone for much longer, game or not Dean had destroyed one of the most powerful demons of Hell.  Others would come, swarming in to see.  Alistair had been keeping the angel for himself, but now that he was gone, Castiel would be fair game.  The restraints were taken away, and with it the sigils had been broken.  He could finally fulfil his mission.  But it was too late, Dean was a demon, the Righteous Man had been lost.  But Castiel saw something in Dean.  In the dark and twisted soul there was a spark, like a dying ember in the smoke, a single spark of humanity.  Nothing else mattered, save the righteous man, perhaps it wasn’t too late after all.

Alistair had taken him apart piece by piece, until there was little of the angel left.  But still enough to drag them both out of damnation, and into the blinding light of day.  He did what he could to repair the damage to Dean’s soul.  It still writhed and twisted like black smoke, but the spark of something bright and beautiful shone a little brighter.  No longer have a dying ember, but a bright star shining through the darkness.  Once it was done Castiel returned the soul to its now restored body.  He could only hope his efforts had not been in vain, that it would be enough to bring Dean to be the savior he was destined to be. 

Dean lay still, his body stretched out over the ground that once served as his grave.  His body and soul had been badly traumatized; it would take time for Dean to return to consciousness.  Resurrections were difficult enough when it meant returning a soul from Heaven back to its body.  To pull a soul from Hell had never been done before.  Castiel had etched Enochian sigils into the man’s ribs as a precaution; he wished to give Dean time to recover without the interference of other angels.  The marks would serve to keep him hidden from demons as well.  For the time being they were safe.

With that in mind Castiel gave into the exhaustion that had overtaken him with the loss of his grace.  He lay on the ground, pine needles pressing in sharply, painfully.  The sun shone too brightly, too hot above him.  He felt…wrong.  He could feel.  He shouldn’t feel emotion, not like this.   The emotions he shouldn’t be feeling overwhelmed him, crashing over and threatening to drown him.  Now it was too much, too much pain too much emotion.  He knew that losing his grace would make him human, but the reality was far worse than he had anticipated.  Memories of Hell crashed over him, suddenly fierce and painful.  He tried to pull his wings around him, to protect him, only to remember his wings were broken, the action proving painful.  There was some angel left, but he was almost entirely human.  He was vulnerable.  He curled in on himself under the onslaught of sensations.  The world began to spin, closing in on him.   His racing heart a new sensation to him, it began to get difficult to breathe.  Panic rising sharply within him.  His orders were to raise Dean Winchester, but what if he had made a mistake, he had been cut off from Heaven.  He had to act quickly, make a decision without guidance or orders.  What if he made a mistake, raising a demon?  After millennia as a cold distant celestial, he could feel, feel everything.  He was fallen, he was human, he was utterly lost to Heaven and it was all too much.


	2. Darkness

****

On some level Castiel knew he should contact Heaven, pray to his brethren and alert them to what was happening.  It would likely result in his death as falling was not taken lightly, but that should not matter.  To die in the service of Heaven was an honor, not something to be feared.  It was necessary to think of the greater good, and the angels needed to know what had come of the Righteous Man.  He would die, but it was better to die in the service of Heaven than live as a fallen angel.  It was the right choice, but he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it.  Instead, for the second time, he chose to defy Heaven, and ignore what he knew was right.  He went with Dean, the relatively short walk to nearest town was done in silence.  With each step Castiel considered what he had done, the choice he had made, and the choice he was still making.  He stood watch while the man – demon – hotwired a car.  It had been his mission to pull the Righteous Man from Hell.  It had been hoped that it could be done much earlier, long before Dean’s soul was twisted and turned black.  But they had been too late.  All the same, his mission had been completed, the Righteous Man had been resurrected, and it was no longer his problem to solve.  Whatever came next should be left to those higher up than himself.  But he knew that could only end badly for the demon.  Dean could have killed him in the graveyard, ended Castiel’s life to ensure his own safety.  But he had chosen to spare him, take Castiel with him.  And so he followed Dean, he owed it to him to help Dean find his brother.  Castiel had spent his time in Hell holding onto the possibility that he could still resurrect the Righteous Man and save the world.  Dean had held onto the memory of Sam.  It felt only right to help Dean fulfill his mission.  Perhaps then he would turn himself and Dean over, allow his superiors to do what they deemed necessary.

Dean sat up straight in the driver’s seat, looking satisfied with himself as the car’s engine purred to life.  He looked to the angel then, “are you coming?”  It was a question, but Castiel felt that Dean already knew the answer, took his compliance for granted.  Which, he supposed, it was.  He went to the passenger’s seat and slid into the car.  He folded what was left of his broken wings in against his back.  He caught Dean staring at them and felt uncharacteristically self-conscious.  Another sign of how far he had fallen, angels had no reason to concern themselves with their appearance, let alone the perception of others.  He wondered if Dean could sense his unease, because he looked away towards the road, and started driving.

Castiel watched the world passing by out the window, telephone poles and trees blurring faintly and fading as they passed.  He had been on earth before, but this was different.  When he had come to earth before he had been an angel sent to earth to do his father’s bidding.  Now, he didn’t know what he was.  He had always thought the world was beautiful, even more so up close.  He cleared his mind and tried to focus on watching the landscape pass the window, focusing on the silence.

Dean had initially tried to play music on the car radio, but all the presets were for Christian stations, and he couldn’t get reception on a station he liked.  After quite a bit of fiddling with the buttons while swearing and glaring at the radio like it had personally offended him he had given up, allowing the silence.  Castiel liked the Christian music, it reminded him a little of home.  Heaven was filled with the unending song of angels, constant praise of their father.  He didn’t say anything though, he didn’t mind the silence.

He found he didn’t like human transportation.  The car was slow and confining.  Time felt too linear, he felt trapped in the vehicle.  He tried to focus on the feeling of motion, the scene around him, but it helped very little.  The longer they drove the more tense he found himself.  He didn’t know where they were going and it didn’t occur to him to ask, Dean seemed to have some idea as to what he was doing, and that was enough for the time being.

When he glanced over at Dean he saw the man, for his part, looked very content.

“Do you remember who you were?”  Castiel couldn’t stop himself from asking.  He knew Dean remembered Sam, but he couldn’t tell how much more he remembered.

There was a long silence and then Dean answered, “Some of it.  I remember Sammy.  I can remember some fragments of being human, but not much.  I remember a few random things, like Field of Dreams is a movie, but I can’t remember watching it.  It’s like looking through a heavy fog and sometimes a few random pieces will come into focus.  I know my name, because Alistair would call me ‘Dean Winchester’.  He took pride in breaking a ‘Winchester’ so I guess I must have been something significant when I was alive.  I remember stuff, like how to hotwire a car, apparently.  But most the details of my life are murky and muddled.”

“You were significant, you still are.  More so then you ever knew.  As to the other part, demons retain their practical knowledge learned in life, if not the details of their lives.  When a soul is twisted into a demon it is necessary to strip away everything that made them human, in particular those they loved and those who loved them.  But other aspects are left.  It would be in practical for a demon to possess a body and have no knowledge as to how to walk or speak.  Creating a demon is about twisting a soul into something lacking any humanity, but with enough knowledge to be useful.”

“Huh.  I didn’t know that.  I sort of feel like I just had the TED talk on demons.”  Dean’s voice sounded amused, but Castiel couldn’t understand why.

“I do not understand that reference.”  There was much that he knew about his father’s creation, but it seemed there was still much that he had yet to understand.

“TED talks are…you know what?  It doesn’t matter.  I just got out of Hell, I’m not sure I’m up to explaining pop culture to the holy tax accountant of the Lord.  Who are you wearing anyway?  I can tell your possessing some poor bastard.  I can see your wings, and sort of see _you_ beneath the meat suit.  It’s like a glow beneath the skin, a part of that body, but still distinct.”

Castiel looked down at the body he was wearing.  “His name was James Novak.  He was a very devout man, he actually prayed for this.  Being chosen as the vessel of an angel is considered a great honor to the devout.  Even if I could possess a human without their consent, I never would.”

“Was?  I take it that means I don’t have to worry about him surfacing and freaking out because his body was taken over and he wants it back?”

“James Novak’s soul resides in the fields of Lord, even as his body remains on earth to do God’s work.  I secured a vessel before I descended into Hell.  I was confident - now I realize overly confident - in my ability to pull you out.  I wanted to ensure I would have a vessel so that I could help you once you were on earth again.  For all but the special few, looking upon the true visage of an angel does not end well.  While I was in Hell James Novak died in a car accident.  It was an unfortunate accident, but even in Heaven he appreciated the magnitude of the work that angels do and consented to allowing me to use his body as my vessel.  It has brought him great joy* knowing that he can be of assistance in this way.   Now that I have returned to earth I thought it might bring his family some sense of peace if they understood in what way he was able to serve the Lord, even after death.”  He had promised his vessel that he would take care of the man’s family, and he always kept his promises.  In Hell he had begun to believe that this time he would be incapable of following through.  But now that he was back he would make sure to do whatever he could to help them.

“Let’s hold off on the whole, ‘look who’s back from the dead’ reunion.  I know you mean well, but I don’t think the guys family will be too thrilled to see someone they love come back from the dead possessed by someone new.  I think it would cause more harm than good, like seeing a zombie or something.  And believe me, that never ends well.”

“And yet you are intent on finding Sam.  Isn’t that the same thing you are warning me against doing?”

Dean shifted in his seat and Castiel could feel he had made the man feel ill at ease.  As his grace faded his perception did as well, but he could feel the emotions of others, at least for the time being.*

“That’s different.  For one thing, I’m not another entity possessing a body.  Apparently, I’m possessing myself.  I’m still me, I’m just…different.  Besides, it’s Sam.  After everything we’ve been through, this is nothing.”  Dean tried to sound confident, but the undercurrent of doubt was clear.  He began to fidget with the radio again, trying once more to find something he liked.  When he couldn’t find anything he liked he turned it off in irritation, before he looking ahead and driving in uncomfortable silence.

He watched Dean for a moment, he could see his jaw was clenched, the line between his eyes creased, outward signs of Dean’s disquiet.  But what bothered the angel most was what he could see beneath the surface.  He could see the way Dean’s black soul twisted and writhed, pushing out as if trying to escape his body, then folding in on itself.  The bright light that shot through it was faded as the darker part of him took over.  His soul had been mostly quiet until the subject of Sam had been brought up.  Despite Dean’s attempts to look certain, underneath it all he knew there was a chance that Sam would not accept Dean as he had become.  Castiel hated the pain he had caused the man, once more failing the righteous man.

“I’m sorry.”  It wasn’t enough; it was all he could say.

Dean glanced at him, and then back to the road.  “What are you sorry for you?”

“I was supposed to save you, my brothers and I descended into Hell to save you.  But we were too late.  I couldn’t save you, I failed God and I failed you.”

“I can’t speak for the angels, or Heaven, or God, or whoever else, but you didn’t fail me Cas.  You saved me.  *

 

“Do you know who I was before?  How much do you know about my life?”

“I suppose I know everything about you.  You and your brother are very important to Heaven.  I have been watching over you since you were born.”  Castiel answered, studying him.  This man was so familiar to him.  He wondered if Dean had ever felt his presence.  “There were many times throughout your life that I wanted to intervene, to help you and your brother.  But the path you were to travel was a necessary one, as it would lead you to where you needed to be.  I had to have faith that all would turn out as my father had planned.”  Now he wondered if his faith had been misplaced.  It was had to believe that this was where Dean’s path was supposed to have led.  Perhaps if Castiel had intervened sooner, the outcome would have been better.

“Do you remember John and Mary?”   Castiel asked, studying him.

Dean glanced at him then back at the road.  “Who?”

“You’re parents.  John and Mary Winchester.  They are both in Heaven now.  You don’t remember them at all?”

Dean gave a quick shake of his head as answer.

“Does that bother you?”

“Should it?”  There was no challenge in Dean’s voice.  It was a simple question, as if he was genuinely curious if he should be bothered by not remembering his parents or their death.

“Yes, I believe it should.  If you were human then it would bother you to not remember two people who were important to you.”

Dean let out a long sigh, “But I’m not human, not anymore.  That’s the way it works, isn’t it?  I was human, but Hell twisted me into something new.”

Castiel thought about that, “Not entirely.  That’s why I pulled you out.  Your soul is almost entirely blackened, but there was still a spark of light within it, there’s a piece of the human soul left untainted by Hell.  It shouldn’t be possible, but it is.  Perhaps it is better that you don’t remember.  Your life was not an easy one, maybe it is a mercy that you don’t remember what you went through.”

There was a bitter curve to his smile when Dean spoke, “Whatever happened, it couldn’t have been worse than what was done to me, what _I did,_ in Hell.  You said there’s some part of me that’s still human.  Well, I’d say the pain I felt, the people who were close to me all went into making me who I was.  I can’t remember, but you can tell me who I was, I want to know everything.”

He did as he was asked, he told Dean everything he knew, about Mary and John, the fire and Azazel.  He told him what he knew and he Dean listened, asking questions from time to time. 

Talking about Dean’s family made Castiel think about his own brothers and what he had given up when he chose to save Dean even if though it meant falling himself.  He had given up everything and decision could be the world’s salvation or its damnation.


	3. Lost

They stopped for the night at a sleazy hotel with stained carpets and peeling wallpaper. The desk clerk leered at Dean when he asked for one room with two beds. “You should just get a king; you’re just going to push the beds together anyway. No need to try to keep your reputation princess, not in a place like this.” The clerk said throwing a suggestive look at Castiel. Castiel could feel the anger rolling off Dean and when he grabbed the keys from the clerk he could see the way Dean’s black soul seethed in response to the disrespect this man had shown him. Dean turned away without comment, as if the man had already been forgotten. For his part, Castiel took one last look back at the man behind the desk. The man’s soul cried out in pain and loneliness. He has convinced himself that he wasn’t good enough to be loved and now he reacts with callousness to those he thinks might be happy. The angel wondered why it was that humans cut themselves off, kept themselves from happiness choosing instead to live in the dark of their own pain.

The room was nicer than the angel had been expecting. There wallpaper was a yellowish version of what he guessed had once been a stripped pattern. But the two beds appeared clean enough and he found them to be surprisingly comfortable when sat down on one. 

Dean paced in across the carpet his eyes black, “I could kill him. If he had anyone idea who I am what I’ve done…I could rip his heart out without a second thought.”

“Is the implication that we are together really so objectionable?” The sharpness of Castiel’s voice surprised him. He didn’t understand why the prospect bothered him. The thought that Dean was murderous over the idea that they might be together made him feel ill at ease. It created a strange kind of ache in his chest that he was unfamiliar with.

His words had the effect of stopping Dean in his pacing. “That’s not…do you really think that’s why I’m upset? I don’t like the way he was looking at you, like you were just another hopeless junkie crashing here because you have nowhere better to go. If he understood…”

“But he doesn’t, he has no idea who you are or who I am. He is himself lost and looking for meaning. He lashes out because he has lost hope.”

Dean’s anger had abated somewhat, but he his voice was still aced displeasure, “that doesn’t excuse him treating you like that.” Castiel didn’t respond, they had both been through far worse, but Dean still the need to defend the angel against the indignities of humanity. An unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, warmth filled him at the idea.

He laid back, stretching out on the bed. He was very tired, another sign of his new humanity. The weight of everything that had happened was fully settling in upon him and the welcome the temporary relief sleep would bring.

“You cannot protect me from all the indignities of humanity.”

“But I can try.” Dean’s voice was soft, and there was silence after. He heard the other bed creak, but he didn’t look up.

Catiel could feel the thrum of humanity all around him, it was the echo of emotions and thoughts, pain and longing. But it was distant, not nearly as clear and sharp as it once was. His grace was waning and as it did he was becoming more disconnected from the world around him. For eons he had felt the constant song of his brothers with in. With such a symphony he was never alone. He could hear them and they could hear him, there was never a moment of silence. But now he was cut off from them and he was left with only the muted echo of humans around him, as if someone had turned down the colors on the world. The silence was deafening and he felt so alone. He was cut off from Heaven, a demon his only companion. 

Eventually the darkness of sleep overtook him and he was lost in a nightmare. He was lost in Hell again, Alistairs smiling face filling his vision. There was so much pain and screaming. He woke with a start, to the darkness of the hotel room. The screaming was gone. Dean was lying in the other bed. He wondered if the demon’s dreams were haunted like his own were. But Dean couldn’t be a demon, not entirely. Demons didn’t sleep. There was a spark of humanity left inside him, and it was that spark that Castiel could still see shining brightly, even in the black twisted soul. For good or evil Dean was the only connection he had left in this world. It was ridiculous, and unfitting of an angel of the Lord, but Castiel felt so alone, and it was this that compelled him to slip into the bed next to Dean. He could feel Dean breathing next to him and the warmth of a body next to his helped ease the ache of loneliness a little. This time when sleep claimed him his dreams were not haunted.

They didn’t talk about it the next day. But at the next hotel Dean asked for a room with one bed.


	4. Understanding

After a few days in the same suit, the one his vessel had been wearing when he took him over, Castiel was starting to looked as ragged as he felt. The fabric was stiff and becoming increasingly uncomfortable with each passing day. It would be necessary for him to find something new. He looked through Dean’s bag. Dean had had the foresight to buy, or perhaps, steal a few changes of clothes. Castiel didn’t discuss the matter with Dean, he did the only practical thing he could. He took out a t-shirt, jeans and hoodie from Dean’s stash and put them on. The fabric was soft against his skin and much more comfortable than the suit he had been wearing. 

“I have to say, I like the trench coat and all, but it’s nice seeing you like this. You look much more human, less holy tax accountant.” Dean spoke from the bathroom door and Castiel looked up to see he was wearing nothing but a towel. Dean gave him a lascivious smile, “enjoying the view?” he asked. 

“I have existed since the dawn of time. I have watched humanity since before clothing existed or modesty was a concept.”

Dean’s smile fell at that, “you certainly know how to make a guy feel unspectacular. ‘nothing I haven’t seen before’ isn’t exactly what I was hoping for.”

It hadn’t occurred to Cas that Dean was showing off for him. If he was then it was a pointless gesture. “I’m not human Dean; not entirely, I can see you, all of you. I can see your soul and I can see the beauty in it, even now, as twisted and battered as it is. Angels don’t experience attraction like humans do. You are a beautiful work of art, my father’s most perfect creation. But I can’t…feel attraction or desire.” Even with as human as he was becoming attraction was still not an aspect of humanity he was capable of experiencing. He had not felt a sense of loss over the idea that he never would. But now, standing close Dean he wondered if he could be what Dean needed him to be. He wanted to give everything to the man he had fallen for, but he wondered if what he could give was enough.

Something about that struck Dean as funny, “’nothing I haven’t seen before, but you have a beautiful soul.’ Normally I’d feel insulted but coming from you, I’d say that’s about the best I can ask for. And you don’t have to remind me you aren’t human, it’s hard to forget when I can see your wings.” He reached one hand out towards one of Castiel’s wings, and then stopped, pulling back. They were tattered and broken and Castiel felt ashamed that Dean was seeing him like this. He wished the man could have seen him when he was at his full glory. As Dean’s hand pulled away his wing tracked the movement, unbidden by him it went out and curled around Dean’s shoulder. 

“I want to understand everything about you. Whatever you are, whatever you feel, I want to understand. I can feel your emotions. Not strongly, just distantly, sometimes.” Dean told him, looking, almost awed, at the wing that was touching him. He reached out and ran his hand along the upper ridge. It should have hurt, burned, to be touched by a demon, Castiel should have pulled away. But instead it sent shivers through his grace and pressed the wing in closer.

“We are connected, you and I,” Castiel said, “When I saw you Hell there was a spark of humanity left in you. But you were broken and battered, and I patched you up as best I could using pieces of my grace. I put you back together, even though I couldn’t fully restore your soul, I could help heal it a little. And now I am a part of you. The very fact that I feel anything is a sign of how far I have fallen.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. If you ask me, being human is not something to be ashamed of. You aren’t broken Cas, you’re something special, you’re different.”

“I’m not an angel, not anymore.”

“No you’re something better.”

The demon, Dean, moved closer, closing the gap between them. He tilted Castiel’s chin up towards him, and leaned in pressing his lips against the angels. Castiel closed his eyes and welcomed the contact, wrapping his wings around the demon and letting himself be completely surrounded by the man. He had given up everything for Dean, and in that moment he knew, that no matter what happened next, he had made the right choice.


	5. Attraction

Dean took them to a dinner off the highway. Castiel stared down at the menu. “I don’t understand.” Dean looked up and put down his own menu. “You don’t understand what, exactly? It’s not that complicated. It’s just a menu, for a celestial being you certainly seem to have trouble with simple concepts.”

Castiel looked up annoyed, Dean liked to bait him, remind him of what he was, or at least what he had been. “I don’t understand why you wanted to stop here. You do not require food. I told you I would be satisfied with something easier.” Dean had made a point to go out of his way to find a diner, as opposed to stopping at any of the convenience stores that were closer.

“We don’t need it, no. No one needs bacon cheeseburgers and pie, but we eat it anyway, because it’s good. That’s one of the perks of being human, there’s a whole world of pleasure out there. It may not be necessary, but it makes life worth it.”

“Yes, I think I understand. Before she fell Annael would brush her wing against mine before we went into a battle. It wasn’t necessary, but I believe it brought her a sense of comfort, and showed her support.”

Dean was studying him, before nodding, “Yeah, I guess that’s the same thing. There’s so much about you I still don’t understand. Who was Annael, anyway?

“She was my superior in the ranks of Heaven, and I believe you would have said she was my friend. Angels do not use such concepts, but I think that’s what we were.”

They were interrupted by their waitress who came to see if they were ready to order. Her skirt was short and clung to her hips, her shirt cut low, with a name tag that read “Amy” clipped to it.

Dean ordered a bacon cheeseburger and pie.

“What about you, sweetie?” the waitress asked turning to Castiel.

“He’ll have the same.” Dean snapped his tone unnecessarily sharply.

She looked at Dean disapprovingly, then turned to Cas and rolled her eyes, mouthing “You can do better” before walking off to fill their orders. Castiel watched her leaving until she disappeared into the kitchen.

When he turned back to Dean his eyes were narrowed and he looked displeased, Castiel looked back confused by his sudden change in demeanor. “See something you like?” His tone was harsh.

He stared back confused, “what do you mean?”

“Why were you staring at her like that?” Dean’s voice was still annoyed, but it had lost some of its edge.

“She sleeps with men because her father left her when she was a child. She blames herself and seeks out affirmation from strange men, trying to fill the void he left,” Castiel explained.

“So she has daddy issues, what’s that got to do with you?” Dean asked, sounding more irritated this time, as if Castiel’s explanation was only making the issue worse.

“She prayed for an ending to her loneliness and her destructive cycle. She wanted true and meaningful love. When her prayer was unfilled it made her more bitter, leading her to give up her faith in God as someone else who had abandoned her.”

“Now you feel responsible for her unhappiness, I take it?” Dean asked, the ire gone from his voice.

“No, not at all,” Castiel said, now it was his turn to sound annoyed at Dean’s interruption, “her prayer was answered. She was met her soulmate, a beautiful woman with a pure heart. They could have been happy together for the rest of their lives. But Amy refused to admit that she could feel that way towards another woman. She had the chance to be happy, but she gave it up. I don’t understand why humans are so unwilling to embrace happiness when they find it, but bemoan their retched lives.”

“If I could answer that I would be a rich man.” 

When their food came Amy gave Dean a disagreeable look, and made a point to smile at Castiel. He took one bite out of his food while Dean looked on expectantly. “Well, what do you think?” He sounded like what Castiel thought of the food was of great importance. He set down the burger and looked at it like it had offended him, “I think it is very greasy. I do not understand the human obsession with food if this is what is considered good.”

Dean eyed his burger suspiciously before standing up and throwing a few bills on the table. “You know what, this was a bad idea. Greasy diner food might not be the best way to start you out. I think I’ve got a better one.”

They had stopped at another hotel; they were all starting to look the same. Dean covered the table with every type of vending machine food he could get. Most looked as suspect as the diner food, but tasted like heaven. Dean smiled, clearly pleased with him for finding something the angel clearly enjoyed. They sat on the bed together and Dean flipped through the channels on the fuzzy TV stopping on a show with a man in cowboy boots making out with a woman in scrubs in an elevator. 

“What is this?” Castiel asked, unfamiliar with the show.

“I don’t know, but I think I like it.”

It turned out it was a marathon of something called Dr. Sexy, MD. They spent the rest of the afternoon eating junk food and watching the television show. It was, perhaps for the first time, Castiel fully appreciated the benefits of being human.


End file.
